Allies in the Night
by LosLobosi
Summary: The heroes and villains of Overwatch find themselves awakening in a dire situation; locked in a dark strange room as they awaken in pairs. Can they set aside their differences and work together to escape the trap; or will their hatred of each other prove to be their undoing? Only time will tell.
1. The Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend

**_The Enemy of my Enemy is my friend._**

A grinding sound echoed through the dark room, causing both it's inhabitants to jerk awake suddenly in surprise. Dark stone walls garnered with ornate, intricate and disturbing looking runes surrounded the pair; the space being no bigger than ten by ten feet. It only took a few seconds for Tracer to blink the sleep out of her eyes before her gaze settled on the neighbour of her cell; Amelie Lacroix, AKA Widowmaker.

Tracer leapt to her feet in an instant; pulse pistols flipped out from the holsters on her forearms. It appeared Widowmaker also had the same inclination - the deadly Widows Kiss rifle already trained on the cockney Brit's head. For the longest of moments the pair stared at each other in a Mexican standoff.

"What are we doin' here?" Tracer perked up softly; her eyes never leaving the french assassins own amber ones.

"I could ask you the same thing." Widowmaker responded; her accent thick, luscious and seductive. The rifle made some whirring sounds as it's carbine locked onto the tiny women's forehead. "I don't remember anything before this dark room." She whispered quietly.

A few more tantalizing seconds passed; and Tracer lowered her pulse pistols somewhat, dragging her eyes away from Widowmaker to study the darkened cell. As much as she disliked the assassin they were stuck here together for some reason - and it was clear that Widowmaker had come to that conclusion also; for she too lifted her rifle onto her shoulder, casting her own eyes around the dark room.

"So love .. Where do y'reckon we are?"

"Merde ... If I knew that I'd have figured a way out." Widowmaker seemed to grunt in response. Her hands ran across the runes on the wall that seemed to make little sense to the pair. A flitting sound was heard; and Tracer was standing next to her, studying the runes also with a curious glance; that quirky annoying nature of hers still now grated on Widwomaker.

"Weird isn't it. This place must ave' a door though right? Otherwise how'd we get in here?" She piped up, grinning a little at Widowmaker. Even now she held hope for the brainwashed assassin.

 _Very correct, and well observed; Lena Oxton!_

The voice echoed across the room without source, causing the pair to nearly jump out of their skins. Instantly without thinking the pair were back to back weapons raised to strike out at whatever threat might jump out toward them. A few moments passed; and a hollowgram of a Tekhartha Mondatta seemed to visualise within the room; the runes on the walls glowing a light blue colour to cause the hologram.

"Mondatta?! Y'alive!" Tracer cried out; pulling away from Widowmakers back. The assassin seemed unphased however studying the hologram with a somewhat dismissive look.

"He's dead. I made sure of that. Une balle, un mort." Widowmaker murmered and it sounded as if there was a hint of pride in her voice.

Tracer frowned, looking over to Widowmaker "Clearly he ain't love, cause he's talking to us right now!" She grinned softly at the assassin, twirling the pulse pistols softly in her hands. Widowmaker simply rolled her eyes, _The child is insufferable._

The hologram flickered slightly as Mondatta spoke, his robotic voice calm yet stern.

 _You've both been set a test, along with the other agents and enemies of the Overwatch history. Whomever has put you in here wants you both to work together to get out of this situation; and thus you need to set aside your differences and focus. Within the Iris, we are one._

Tracer's eyes widened and a cry of indignation escaped her usually optimistic lips "You mean, work with her?! Shes a murderer! mondatta. She tried to kill ya'!"

 _She DID kill me Lena. I don't know what I am anymore, but I certainly am not alive. Regardless, you won't make it out alive. Whatever trials are ahead have been set for the two of you as a pair._

A chuckle found its way out of Widowmakers lips, her rifle still resting against her shoulder. "I won't need your help, but stick around. I'll be sure to put a bullet in your head once we're free of this place. C'est comme ça." The female purred softly, clearly relishing the fact Tracer was so torn between the issue.

 _Please Lena; you must escape._

And with that, the hologram flickered out of existence. A loud harsh grinding sound was heard once again; except this time one of the walls visibly shifted. Sliding downwards it revealed a dark passage that offered no answers yet woke just as many questions. The pair cast a glance at each other, seeming to glare into each others eyes.

"This is temporary. I'm going to kill you when we're out of here, Tracer."

"Y'can try, love." A grin on Tracers lips; still as optimistic as ever it seemed.


	2. Life and Death

**_Life and Death._**

All the while Tracer and Widowmaker were tentatively taking their first steps out of the their prison; another cell nearby was also whirring into life. This cell differed somewhat substantially from the former pairs however. Pure white walls that were almost blinding to the eyes broken up only be the black strips that surrounded the edges of each wall. Grinding sounds could be heard once again and the two inhabitants felt themselves stirring awake in a similar fashion; taking a few moments to blink the sleep out of their eyes.

Reaper, a man known once as Gabriel Reyes, found his masked face staring up at a person he'd grown to hate entirely for the poor example of life he found himself living; Angela Ziegler, AKA: Mercy. Within an instant his favorite twin shotguns were clasped firmly in his hands and both pointed at the female, all the while she watched carefully; her own finger and thumb on the butt of her blaster.

"What .. Have you done to me .. This time?" Reaper ushered throatily. The ordeal he'd suffered had left his voice sounding hollow, echoing and fearsome. His fingers tightly gripped the shotguns; seeming ready to fire off at them.

Mercy's eyes were stunning to behold, and he'd certainly been an admirer of hers when he was alive. The angelic Armour fitted and complimented her bodice perfectly; the thick thighs and knee-high boots hugging her lean frame in fashionable style. While she was a compassionate being she knew how to dress well.

"Nothing, Gabriel." He German accent was thick, soothing and reeked of truth. "I awoke here just the same as you. I rose but a few minutes before you did - And haven't been able to figure out what this cell is we're being held in." She lifted her finger and thumb off her blaster; an action Reaper noticed in a heartbeat, and leaned against her staff gently - looking around once again at the empty room.

"My name .. Is Reaper." He uttered in annoyance. Realizing she was in the same position as he was, he lowered the shotguns and now bought his gaze around the room. There seemed to be very little to define where they were or what the room was there for. "There is .. No door. Do you remember .. Anything?"

Mercy shook her head softly. "Nothing. I woke up here, tested every wall and then you yourself arose."

"Why should .. I believe you? I've hunted .. For so long. My prey stands before me .." He muttered softly, raising a shotgun and pointing it right at her face - Inches away. "What stops me just .. Killing you now .. _Mercy_?" He spoke her name with clear anger; the memory of what happened still raw inside him.

 _I'd suggest against that, dear Reaper._

The voice echoed around the room causing the pair to jump in surprise. Reaper spun quickly scanning every wall for any change. It was at that moment he felt Mercy standing close to him; seeming to watch his back somewhat. "What are you .. Doing?" He growled.

"Watching your back."

"Don't."

 _You might want her to once you get out of here!_

It was Mercy now that spoke with authority; a soft and yet seductive growl in her throat "Who's there? You will cease playing silly games right now!" She grasped her staff firmly and rested it on Reapers shoulder. She seemed unphased by his hostility and that surprised him. He frowned beneath his mask as he grasped his shotguns. _Why isn't she afraid of me? I've tried to kill Overwatch so many times .._

I'm afraid I can't show myself. There's no holo-recorders in this little room here. But you get to hear my sweet dulcet sounds! So there's that!

The voice sounded familiar yet completely alien at the same time, which confused both of them in equal measures. It had a certain cheekiness to it. A flair for the unknown and a flippant nature that everything was alright in actual reality. Reaper once more lowered his shotguns, still aware that Mercy was practically leaning on his shoulder now. "Do you .. mind? We're not .. Under threat." He questioned, nudging her away from his shoulder.

"Of course." She whispered in response, pulling back from being so close to him. For now, she rested against her staff; studying the walls for any sign of movement.

 _Excellent! Ahead there are many tests. Only together can you overcome them, so I suggest you set aside your differences and make sure you both survive! It's a dangerous trial out there, i'd hate for either of you to perish. And remember; you've been paired up because your skills compliment each other. Don't forget it!_

The pair seemed to exchange a glance. Mercys own face was etched with the same compassion she always had, a small smile on her attractive lips. She nodded curtly at Reaper as if to say she was willing to work with him. He furrowed his brow under the mask once more. Even still she isn't afraid. Does she feel bad for what happened still? Good. She should. He returned with a short nod of his own in agreement. For now the pair had a pact, though that didn't mean he wouldn't kill her once they escaped.

A grinding sound could be heard once more, and the white wall seemed to shift downwards - Revealing a tunnel ahead that swerved to the left one hundred feet down. It carried the same white walls with black edges as the cell - And offered no answers no hint to where the pair actually were.

"For the record, Gabriel. I'm sorry for what I did to you. I tried my hardest." Mercy's voice fluttered into his ears softly. She had a look of pain on her face, as if she'd spent the longest time to find a good place to say those words. A soft hand reached out to touch Reapers forearm gently; giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Your words mean nothing." He lied.

 _.. They mean everything.  
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 _ **(( Really enjoying writing this thus far! Very fun to explore the different characters and their pairings. There will be a few more pairs to come, see if you can guess them all! And please, do leave any feedback if you've things you think I can improve on. ))**_


	3. Robots in Disguise

_**Robots in Disguise**_

Yet another room held two inhabitants this time, although the room itself was entirely different to the others own cells. Metallic walls, ceiling and floor - A reinforced metal that seemed impossible to break through, and even though Zarya had tested it rigorously; she never turned her back from the unit in the corner - watching the deactivated Bastion unit carefully with her deep-set brown eyes.

Zarya was a beast of a women, weighting in at an easy 250 pounds of pure muscle. Her biceps bulged and flexed with every movement she made, the tattoos on her shoulders and forearms pronouncing said muscles even more so. She folded her arms once, flicking her short, spiked pink hair out of her eyes with a flick of the neck - A heavy frown on her face.

512.

The tattoo itself was tribalistic in it's nature; the kind you'd see on a samoan hulk of a man, like the famed wrestler for decades ago; The Rock and the rest of his family linage. Yet it had a personal meaning to Zarya. 512 kilograms was the most she'd ever dead-lifted, her own personal record and perhaps might have been the world record. She'd never know now, because of one of the machines she found herself staring at.

Her eyes flickered across to the particle cannon she'd leant against the wall. An engineering marvel in itself and a personal gift when she abandoned her dead-lift career to protect her homeland. There was also the issue that she was the only person who could easily carry the damn thing around - It was colossal! But after years of use she was an expert in it's intricacies and workings; and a force to be reckoned with behind it.

Once more the eyes flickered back, but this time to the piece of paper in front of her. It was a simple message but the gravity of it set her on edge. She hated the Omni's more than most and she'd seen Bastion units tear apart her comrades, friends and people in a rain of hell-fire. She drank in the words once more, clenching a fist at the pure audacity of it all. Whoever had put her and this Bastion unit in here had a LOT to answer for.

 _Alexsandra._

 _Do not destroy this Bastion unit if you wish to leave alive. It will not harm you when it will need its help._

And that was it. That was all she had to go on; stuck in this room with no seeming way out and a promise that this machine wouldn't tear her to shreds the moment it activated. She'd considered dismantling it many times and almost gone through with it. But she couldn't see a way out; having almost broken her hand trying to smash through the walls. A frown furrowed across her brow once more as she waited impatiently _. I wish this damn thing would wake up already._

As if by magic or mind reading, the Bastion unit whirred and beeped into life. Zarya didn't hesitate to react and in one swift movement took her particle cannon up, aiming it at the units head. One wrong move, one sign of hostility and she'd blow it to kingdom come.

The unit took a few more moments to boot up, the various cables glowing a little as energy surged through them. It shunted a little, the humanoid form it currently had causing the arms to jerk a bit. It was in a seated position, leaning back against a corner of the room with it's legs straight out at a 90 degree angle. The small firearm on it's forearm was just one of its arsenal; inside it's chest plate was a deadly minigun that could expend two-hundred rounds in less than five seconds. A machine created purely for death and destruction.

The head swiveled around seeming to settle its "gaze" on Zarya. She stiffened instantly and her trigger finger flexed re-actively. The particle cannon started to charge as the Bastion unit made some strange beeping sounds. Another moment, and the beam would blow it's head up.

Then it waved.

Zarya froze in that instance. Was it trying to distract her? Was this a newly added program in the robots mainframe; a way to coax it's enemies into a space of safety and security before utterly tearing them apart? She was hesitating, the words on the note ringing through her head. It will not harm you when it wakens. She struggled desperately as the Bastion unit simply stared at her as a small child might. The robotic hand waved once again gently, as if awaiting a response; Zarya made her choice.

She let go of the trigger, and waved back.

Bastion seemed to be overjoyed. It beeped triumphantly and seemed to clamber to it's feet the way a human might. It's movements were odd as it looked around the room, beeping and trilling in excitement at everything it encountered. She watched it carefully, and her lips dared to curl into a small smirk; in a way the unit's curiosity was entirely adorable.

Then it swiveled its gaze on her once more and she stiffened again. With one hand still on the particle cannon she stared it down as it walked slowly towards her. When it was but a foot away it just stared at her curiously, then raised a finger to run it along one of the spikes in her hair. Zarya couldn't hold back any longer at that, and the smile took over.

"You like my hair?" She muttered, her voice husky and the Russian accent thick.

Bastion nodded "Boop." It pointed at the letter in her hands.

"You want to read it? Alright. It's about you." She offered the note to the Bastion, which made a trilling sound again.

It pointed to word Bastion and seemed to jiggle with joy at that, moving its finger from the word to itself over and over, hoping she'd get the message.

"Yeah, thats you. You're a Bastion unit. You're a killing machine .. Although you seem like a simpleton mind you." Zarya mused, frowning as she studied the robot.

Bastion nodded again, giving a little thumbs up as if approving her words. It once more pointed to a word, this time her own name "Alexsandra." It then made a shrugging motion, as if saying " _whats this?_ ".

Zarya found herself chuckling at the Bastion unit's curiosity. "I'm Zarya. Thats my first name, Alexsandra. But call me Zarya."

"Bee-ba." The Bastion tried to imitate her name in a beeping sound. The syllables were the same, so she nodded.

A loud grinding noise caused both to look behind them in an instant. The metallic wall was being lowered like a drawbridge; which seemed to lead to a large stone corridor - lit by flaming torches. In an instant Bastion had positioned itself in front of Zarya - One arm held across her in a defensive action while the submachinegun on its arm was aimed at the corridor. It was defending her, but why?

Zarya had no time for questions. For now, she accepted the situation and hefted her particle cannon into her hands once more. This Bastion unit seemed programmed differently - Though she wouldn't let her guard down entirely. The pair exchanged a nod before heading out the door - To whatever laid beyond.

* * *

 **(( Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites and follows so far! It seriously means so much to me when I see people are enjoying my work and it motivates me to write more! I'll respond to the reviews that might need some explanation for them as best I can here. As for the story flow - Once every pair has been introduced, you'll see how each chapter will lay out, as i've got to incorporate them. I'd ideally like to have every pair at least have a few paragraphs in each chapter once they're all introduced :D**

 **SchattenSldat08/Guest: Reaper/Mercy is one of my favorite pairings, and you'll be seeing plenty fear not! They're such an interesting duo, especially as she's the reason he's suffered! :D**

 **Next chapter should be up sometime within the next few days! ))**


	4. Its High Noon

_**Its High Noon**_

Ana Amari hadn't expected to awaken in such a place, and especially with the occupant sat opposite her, a man she'd known from a lifetime ago. She'd been slumped against the wall in her sleep and now that a chance had arisen to study the room, it was a strange design. The walls were entirely wooden in nature yet the design itself was similar to a spaghetti westerns from the olden days; perhaps a homage to the man opposite hers attire. Ana felt her lips curl into a smile as she studied his ridiculous outfit, yet it lasted only a few seconds - Soon replaced once more with the frown she'd come to wear so often of late.

Jesse McCree stirred in his forced sleep and it seemed he'd soon awaken from it. Ana grunted in annoyance as she looked down to check her sniper rifle. A trusted and tried companion through the ages it somehow was here with her. Whoever had put them in here, they wanted them both to be armed; the Peacekeeper was sat safely in McCrees holster. Pushing herself to her feet, Ana raised the barrel to her shoulder - The rifle trained on the sleeping McCrees chest.

It was during that moment that McCree stirred from his slumber, wiping his eyes in a groggy manner; much as if he'd been out on the lash the night before. Taking a few moments to gather himself his gaze finally filtered out the form of Ana's rifle trained on his chest. MeCree's jaw dropped as he muttered her name.

"Ana?"

Amari growled throatily. She stepped closer and placed the barrel of her rifle against his throat. "You abandoned us. Left when the going got tough. Left me, when I needed you the most." She seemed to spit the words out, though there was a definite undertone of despair in her voice.

Jesse studied her remaining eye for a moment with his own hazel ones, before they searched the rest of her face. She'd aged since they'd last met, the wrinkles across her foreheads and cheeks defining the frailty of her body now. Yet she still was fit and healthy, a strongly athletic body and a deep-set beauty that he was utterly weak too. Raising both hands in the air, he spoke slowly in his gruff American accent, a smile ushering itself to his lips. The same smile she'd fallen in love with.

"Sorry sweetheart; didn't want to have to kill you if it came to it. You knew it was a possibility."

Ana seemed to tremor at his words and yet after a few moments she smiled softly. Pulling the rifle back from his throat she rest it against her shoulder - Eyeing up the handsome cowboy. They'd shared a romance back in the days of overwatch. While Ana was nearly two decades his elder he'd been attracted to the grounding and maturity of the women, and in return she'd loved his eccentric style; the typical cowboy attire, cigar in tow and that dashingly cheeky smile. The pair had spent many years together - Side by side both as comrades, and lovers.

"Smart move. You know i'd have taken you back to school." She murmured, offering McCree a hand to pull himself up.

Jesse took the hand and pulling himself to his feet he brushed himself down, giving her that same cheeky smile as before. While he'd aged himself he'd turned from a baby-faced youngster to a gruff, handsome and roguish gunslinger. The look suited him perfectly and Ana couldn't help but giggle as McCree touchedthe edge of his hat gently.

"How'd I look, sugar?" He quizzed, striking a pose.

"Magnificent, despite old."

"You're one to talk." McCree retorted. In that moment they connected once more, and the cowboy stepped forwards in one swift movement. His mechanical arm slipped to the small of her back and pulled her closer to him - While his real hand pushed her hood down, revealing her fine grey hair. "When did you get so old, girl?"

"The day you left." Ana murmured. She found her fingers working without even realizing it - Scratching his beard affectionately. The pair stared at each other for one long moment. "I never stopped hoping i'd see you again." Ana whispered gently. A feeling swelled in her chest once more - Making her feel like a little girl once more.

"I never believed you'd died old girl. Didn't stop looking for one day." He growled back, his fingers running gently down the side of her face.

"I still love you." They both spoke in unison.

The moment held for what seemed an age after; before the pair could no longer hold it. They connected once more, lips together in a symbiotic motion. The kiss grew in intensity after a few moments - The kiss of true lovers. So lost in the moment their hands once more explored each others bodies, the longing lust of it all taking over.

So caught up in the moment, they didn't even notice the wooden wall slide open to reveal an exit. Such is the way of long lost lovers.

* * *

 **(( I really need to apologize for vanishing. Honestly, I simply lost all my enthusiasm for the story. I went too hard too fast and tried to rush it out, and simply lost motivation. I am really, really sorry for that happening. I'm going to be taking a new approach to the story from now on. I'll write just one paragraph a day instead of trying to write a whole chapter a day.**

 **Thank you so much for all your kind words, it really helped boost my spirits when I looked back at this.**

 **You also might be wondering why I paired Ana/McCree and even made it a clearly romantic pairing? Well, I just figured that with their history, I thought McCree would like an older women to ground him. And I personally have a crush on both, heh. ))**


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